


Always Find Me Here

by songsaboutwrites



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Featuring just a pinch of Sam Wilson, Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Wakanda (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-17 15:39:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16519274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsaboutwrites/pseuds/songsaboutwrites
Summary: "I believe in you and in our hearts we know the truth andI believe in love and the darker it gets, the more I doTry and fill us with your hate and we will shine a lightAnd the days will become endless and never, and never turn to nightAnd never, and never turn to nightThen it's just too much, I cannot get you close enoughA hundred arms, a hundred years, you can always find me here"100 Years- Florence + The Machine





	Always Find Me Here

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky wakes up from cryo in Wakanda and Steve never left.
> 
> ~
> 
> I find that there is nothing better than Wakandan bliss for these two tired soldiers.  
> Any errors are entirely my own as this was edited by nobody but myself.

~

The color of the night sky over Wakanda is nearly as breathtaking as the sunsets, vibrant even in darkness. It’s a pure midnight blue only touched with grey by clouds on some nights. The stars are visible even over the city and that’s how Steve knows this place is truly something special, magical even. The deep blue reminds Steve of the eyes he sees in most of his dreams, the depths of which go further than the darkest Wakandan sky or deepest ocean. 

Steve wasn’t the one initially promised protection, but he’s gotten it and months later, he still looks over his shoulder. He’s pretty confident he doesn’t need to anymore or ever did, really, but it’s a hard habit to break. He spends some time alongside T’Challa, helping out however he can. The rest of his time is spent checking in on Bucky’s progress or just letting the days pass. He draws a lot, recreates old memories on paper and maps out new ones to show Bucky when he’s back.

Steve misses home. Well, Sam and Nat at least. He doesn’t miss the ceaseless fighting or the stress, not knowing where Bucky is and dragging other people into his own battles.

Steve gets to talk to Sam once in a while. It’s like Steve gets to hold on to a little slice of home when he does and those days he gets especially homesick.

But he’s ok. He’s alive and he’s ok and he’d rather live this quiet life than what he had back in the states.

Besides, he’s got Bucky. Or he will. Steve hopes he’ll have him one of these days when he’s woken up from cryo. 

~

The last thing Bucky Barnes said to Steve before he went under was that he couldn’t trust his own mind.

Steve repeats those words in his head every day, He remembers Bucky’s expression when he said them. The fear and sadness in his eyes, the glimpse of what Steve couldn’t tell was hopefulness or hopelessness.

He hopes and prays and prays some more that Bucky won’t feel that way when he wakes up. That Bucky will be himself again. Damn everything to hell, Steve says to himself when he can’t bear thinking about it for too long, if Bucky doesn’t finally get to be himself, to be free of Hydra and every horrible thing they ever did to him.

Damn it if Bucky doesn’t get to live again.

~

Steve trains with T’Challa a couple of times a week. T’Challa’s shown him meditation and breathing exercises that Steve’s grown to use regularly and he needs something to keep busy anyway. Things get competitive sometimes considering they both prefer hand to hand practice, but they always end their sessions laughing, promising a win over the other next time.

Steve’s easily tired today and catches his breath while T’Challa cools down with some stretches. Shuri walks in in the middle of it and clicks her tongue at her brother.

“I hope you plan to shower before dinner.”

“If you remind me again, you can use my t-shirt as a pillow case.”

Steve laughs at that, looks back and forth between them. Shuri nods at Steve after she gives her brother an equally grossed out and disappointed glare.

“Captain. I came to give you and my brother some news.”

Steve stands up and T’Challa joins him, still a bit out of breath.

“It looks like Sergeant Barnes will be ready to be awakened in the coming days.”

Steve feels like the wind gets knocked out of him. T’Challa rests a comforting hand on his shoulder and Steve feels like a kid again, kind of dizzy and near collapsing.

“Are you sure? How- what will you do when he wakes up?”

“We’ve prepared a series of test questions that will determine his condition.”

“Oh. Ok. I uh- I don’t know what to say.”

“You have some time to figure it out,” Shuri replies, her smile kind as ever.

Steve smiles back and looks over at T’Challa.

“I’m sure everything will work out just fine.”

“Yes, I hope so.”

“What we’ve done with him has been very complex. If we’ve done everything right- and I’m confident we have- he’ll be ok. Not the same of course, but rid of the tendencies that were programmed into him.”

“And if it didn’t work?”

“We’ll have to wait and see. I’d expect you to have a little more faith than that, Captain.”

“I do, I’m sorry,” Steve rushes, pauses and sighs. “I do. I believe in you and Bucky and all of this.”

“Good. I’ll see you later, I’ve got to get back to the lab.”

Steve bows his head and T’Challa presents his fist, smiles when Shuri knocks hers against his.

“Captain Rogers,” T’Challa calls, prompting Steve to drop what he’s doing. “We should discuss what happens after Sergeant Barnes wakes up.”

Steve sits down on the bench beside T’Challa and nods.

“I know we’ll have to leave, but-”

“That’s what I wanted to discuss. I think it’d be in both of our bests interests if you didn’t.”

Steve knows that. If anyone finds out T’Challa was harboring the Winter Soldier and Captain America, it’d be a media storm, a threat to Wakanda’s peace and privacy, another fight for Bucky’s freedom. It’s just easier, quieter if they stay. That doesn’t make Steve less surpised.

“Really?”

T’Challa nods. “I think we both know what the outcomes might be.”

“I have thought about it,” Steve admits. “I just wouldn’t want to impose. But if you’re ok with it, I’m not against it. I just want what’s best for your country and for Bucky.”

“I understand. We can discuss it further another time.”

T’Challa stands to gather his things and leave and Steve bows as is custom. Before he turns out of the room, Steve calls for him, addresses him formally like he normally does and thanks him.

“You’re welcome. And if you win next week, you can stop being so formal, Captain,” T’Challa jokes, smiling over his shoulder on his way out.

~

Steve can hardly sleep over the days after hearing Shuri’s news. He tosses and turns, tries those meditating exercises he was taught, but even those are barely effective.

Steve has a nightmare about Bucky coming out of cryo and it keeps Steve up after jolting him out of sleep at six in the morning. He dreamt that the procedures didn’t work, that Bucky woke up worse, didn’t remember his own name or anything. He lunged at Steve and had a grasp around Steve’s throat that left Steve patting at his flesh when he woke up, it felt so real.

The nightmare kept Steve wide awake for a while and now, on his way to the lab, he feels the tiredness creeping in. It’s kept at bay by Steve’s nerves and he has to keep reminding himself to take deep breaths.

“I’m going to have you stay out here initially,” Shuri says as the solid wall behind her reveals itself to be what Steve guesses is a two way mirror of some kind. “We will run those tests like I said, check his vitals, and I’ll give you a rundown before you go in.”

“So I can see him today?”

“If everything goes as planned, that’s correct.”

Steve can only manage a nod. T’Challa stands with his guard, Okoye, at the entrance to the room. Steve’s alone, pacing back and forth. Through the glass, he hears the faint whirr of a machine and looks up to see Bucky, still asleep, but thawed. His skin’s a bit pale like he’s still cold and his left shoulder is still wrapped as it was initially. Steve notes the even rise and fall of Bucky’s chest and almost starts to cry, but chokes it back, doesn’t take his eyes off his friend for a second.

He can hear the muffled voices of Shuri and one of her colleagues, but can’t quite make out what they’re saying. Steve just watches silently and holds his breath when Bucky slowly opens his eyes.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve whispers to the empty space around him.

Steve guesses they’re checking vitals first. Everything gets written down and then Shuri stands at the bedside, her tech in one hand to record everything and tucked underneath her arm, a tattered notebook with a star that Steve has seen before.

T’Challa startles Steve with a hand on his shoulder and Steve glances over, bows his head and turns his attention back to Bucky.

“He was a little confused,” T’Challa tells Steve. “She explained what happened, how he got here. He remembers.”

Steve nods, takes that as a good sign. He can’t get words out quite yet, too nervous, too choked up. He manages a croaky thanks and T’Challa gives him another pat on the shoulder before he returns to his spot near the entryway.

Steve hears another strange sound, like sliding glass, and realizes a layer of the wall separating him from Bucky is gone. He can hear now. His heart rate skyrockets and he spots the notebook again, the one with the star and realizes it’s the old book that holds the key to the Winter Soldier. The code that puts Bucky in the passenger seat and sets the Soldier at the wheel.

Shuri goes over a few things before she starts this portion of her test. Steve looks at a monitor of Bucky’s brain having no idea what to make of it.

“Repeat your name, please.”

“Bucky.”

Steve’s heart, left in pieces for so long, mends itself. Hearig that name- so surely and quickly- leaves Steve dizzy, blood rushing and heart pounding away. Steve practically loses it right there, fingers curled against the glass, not caring what anyone might think of it.

“Full name.”

“James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Your birth date.”

“March 10th, 1917.”

Shuri asks him a series of other questions to ensure his memory is intact. Steve watches her peal open the book then and his hand tightens into a fist against the glass. He’s nervous and he wishes he wasn’t.

He watches intently at Shuri explains what will happen next and Bucky nods, the fear in his eyes obvious to Steve. A machine starts to beep, alerting Shuri that Bucky’s heart rate has gone up.

“Just nerves,” he explains.

“Relax. I am going to start, ok?”

Bucky just nods and Shuri begins. She’s been practicing her Russian, apparently. Steve’s heartbeat seems to match the dull, repeated beep of Bucky’s heart monitor and he can see the grip Bucky has on the edge of the bed, white knuckles and curled fingers. Shuri says a sixth word, then a seventh. An eighth, followed by a ninth. Bucky looks up at her, unchanged, and from the side, Steve can just barely make out the small smile that pulls at Bucky’s mouth.

Steve lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and flattens his hand against the glass, like he needs to get closer. He feels the familiar threat of tears, feels like his heart sets ablaze.

Shuri returns the smile with that bright, contagious grin. She follows up with some more questions, the last of which makes Steve almost as nervous as before.

“Are you up to taking a visitor?”

“A visitor?”

“I understand if you are too tired.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t mind, I think I need to talk to your brother about a lot anyway.”

Shuri cocks her head then smiles slyly, gives a wink towards the glass Steve stands on the opposite side of. Okoye turns the corner then and leads Steve into the room. T’Challa is there now and Steve picks up something about talking later, not to worry now.

“Ok,” Bucky says. “I just thought-”

Steve meets Bucky’s eyes as he enters the room and feels goosebumps wash over him in a wave.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve repeats.

“Steve.”

Bucky stands up and takes a couple of careful steps towards Steve. Bucky wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulder and Steve leans into it and squeezes back, maybe more than he should.

“How do you feel, Bucky?”

“Ok. Good, actually. Really good. When did you get here?”

“I didn’t um- I didn’t get here. I never left,” Steve says shyly.

“You’ve been here the whole time?”

Steve nods. They’re still standing close together and Steve’s only just noticed that everyone left the room.

“I couldn’t just leave, could I?”

“You would say that,” Bucky says with a smile. “How about you, Steve? How are you?”

Steve sighs, shakes his head. He hopes his affection isn’t too obvious when he says, “Of course you’re asking about me when you’re the one who just woke up from this.”

Bucky smiles, plops back down onto the bed. Steve sits down next to him and Bucky brings up what happened before, what got them here in the first place.

“You just woke up, Bucky,” Steve interrupts. “Don’t worry about all that now. We have a lot to talk about, but you need to get yourself taken care of first.”

“Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“You have any idea when they’re letting you out of here?”

“Not yet. Shuri mentioned running these tests again a few times. Guess they have to decide how out of whack I still am or not before they let me go.”

Steve chuckles at that. He catches Bucky staring at him and narrows his eyes.

“What are you looking at?”

“A loon.”

“Why am I a loon?”

“A lot of reasons.”

“Fair enough.”

Bucky knocks his shoulder against Steve’s and Steve smiles at him. Bucky doesn’t reciprocate right away and Steve bumps him back.

“You ok?”

Bucky nods. “I was scared going into this. I didn’t know if they could do it and I guess I’m just surprised.”

“It wasn’t just them, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“You did this, too, Buck. You know how much it must take from someone to go through all this? To come out of it at all, let alone healthy and cured of it.”

“You give me way too much credit. Besides, I wanted-”

“What?” Steve prompts when Bucky pauses.

Bucky’s eyes bore into Steve’s and then he looks down briefly before looking up again.

“I wanted this to be over,” Bucky finishes. “To just be me again.”

“I know, Buck.”

Steve wraps a comforting arm over Bucky’s shoulders and Shuri joins them, clearing her throat to announce her presence.

“Ok, grandpas. Sergeant needs his rest and you,” Shuri says with a point at Steve, “are welcome to come back tomorrow.”

Steve climbs off the bed and feels the gentle brush of cold air where Bucky’s body fit before.

“Any idea when I can leave this lab?”

“Just a few more days, Sergeant. Patience.”

Bucky nods and waves Steve off. “Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Steve goes, thanks Shuri on his way out. He stays and watches as they do a couple of minor check ups on Bucky and then goes straight to his place where he falls asleep peacefully for the first time in what feels like forever.

~

The tests are going well. Bucky’s brain scans are all coming back normal and his memories are coming back as expected- slowly the older the are and in pieces, but coming back nonetheless.

Steve spends all his spare time in the lab. On the day Bucky’s due to get out, Steve’s there early, excited to show Bucky his home for now. Shuri wants to make sure he is somewhere quiet and less imposing than the capital and as much as Steve wishes Bucky was going to be a little closer, he’d rather have what’s best for him.

“Ok, Sergeant. I’ll be checking in regularly. I was going to show you to your place myself, but your friend here insisted he do it.”

Steve hopes his face doesn’t get as red hot as it feels. Bucky smiles and Shuri reaches out to shake Bucky’s hand, but he pulls her into a loose hug instead.

“Thank you doesn’t cut it,” Bucky says. “I appreciate this more than I’ll ever be able to say.”

Shuri smiles. She gives Bucky a pat on the shoulder, the same familiar, yet oddly estranged way her brother does.

“I only did it because my brother made me.”

She flashes a grin and Bucky smiles back. She waves the two of them off and Steve bows his head as they turn to leave.

“So. Are you excited?”

Bucky nods. They leave the lab and Bucky gets the first breath of fresh air he’s had in months. He squints up at the sky and an aircraft flies over head, hardly even makes a sound.

“Wow,” Bucky breathes.

“Cool, huh?”

Bucky nods again. “This place is incredible.”

The walk to Bucky’s place is a little long, but Steve doesn’t mind and Bucky doesn’t seem to either. Steve tells Bucky about the train system in the city and the heart shaped flowers, the weapons the Dora Milaje use, the other work Steve’s caught glimpses of in Shuri’s lab.

“Incredible is an understatement,” Steve finishes. “This is it.”

Bucky eyes the little shack by the water and Steve smiles at his confused, almost disappointed expression.

“Wait till you see.”

Like most of Wakanda, the best things are hidden beneath what appears to be average to the eye. Bucky’s expression quickly changes from disappointed to fascinated when he and Steve pass through the low, curtained entrance. 

“Holy shit.”

Steve smiles and watches Bucky explore the place. It resembles the apartment Steve’s staying in. Homey, modern, enough to be comfortable, and complete with little touches of Wakanda’s beyond enhanced technology.

“This is mine, huh? For now at least.”

“Sure is.”

“Do you stay far from here?”

“Not too far. I’m in the city.”

“I know why they want me here, but that’s the damn nicest city I’ve ever seen,” Bucky laments.

“I’ll be honest, I’m a little jealous of this place. You’ve got your own waterfront, for Christ’s sake.”

Bucky laughs and it dawns on Steve just how much he missed that sound. God, he missed the raspiness of it, the way the pitch of it turns up at the end just slightly. He missed how it changes Bucky’s entire face, how his eyes and nose crinkle and the way his lips sort of curl to make room for his teeth.

Bucky nods at Steve to follow him and they stroll back outside, stop near the water’s edge.

“Can you believe this?”

“What do you mean specifically?”

“This. Everything.”

Steve understands. And if he’s being honest, no he can’t believe it. It all feels like a dream, too good to be true, too good for Steve after everything that’s happened.

“I’m still trying to,” Steve admits.

“Me, too.”

They fall into comfortable silence and watch the light breeze send ripples over the water, soak up the sun for a while. Steve doesn’t even see Bucky stretch his arm out so when he feels it over his shoulder he’s pleasantly surprised. He gets jostled when Bucky pulls him closer so they end up pressed side to side.

“I’m real happy you’re back, Buck.”

“I know, Stevie. Me, too.”

~

Wakanda starts to feel more like home pretty quickly. Steve and Bucky get together every day, even if just for a little while. Steve helps conjure up old memories and build new ones and Bucky seems content.

Steve draws pictures of their old haunts from memory, sketches the woods they camped out in during the war, Steeplechase Park on a hot summer day, the two of them at Rockaway Beach sleepy and sunburnt.

Bucky remembers nearly everything, even if it’s just vaguely. Sometimes he remembers without Steve bringing it up first and Steve never smiles as big as he does when Bucky has a story to tell, a memory that shows in the way Bucky’s eyes go bright and wide.

Some days they spend together are quiet and relaxed. Not a lot of stories or laughter or even drawing. They just sit together outside, watch the water and play with the goats.

A phone call interrupts an especially lazy day, but Steve happily answers when he sees it’s Sam. Steve hasn’t told him about Bucky yet and Bucky cocks an eyebrow when Steve answers.

“Hey, Sam. How’ve you been?”

“Good, brother. How’s it going over there? How’s the cat?”

“Alright,” Steve laughs. “Better than alright actually. Bucky’s back.”

Bucky smiles then, closes his eyes against the sun.

“How’s he doing?”

“Good, Sam. Really good.”

“That jackass got me into some problems, but you know I’m still happy for you.”

“He flies around with bird wings and I’m the jackass,” Bucky huffs.

“Hey, I heard that.”

“You’re both idiots, how’s that?”

Bucky kicks at Steve and Steve chuckles into the phone, imagine’s Sam eye roll.

“I’ll talk to you later, Sam. Thanks for calling.”

“I kinda hate you sometimes, but you know I’ll always call.”

“Now you hate me?” Steve says, feigning sadness.

“Goodbye, Cap.”

Steve turns his attention back to Bucky. His eyes are shut and his breathing is even and slow, and Steve wonders if he’d fallen asleep so quickly until Bucky speaks suddenly.

“I should probably apologize to your friend.”

Steve’s unsure of what to say, ponders the statement for a second. “I think he understands, Buck.”

“There are a lot of people I should apologize to, aren’t there,” Bucky replies.

“I know you feel like so much that’s happened is your fault, but you have to remember it wasn’t really you.”

“It wasn’t this me, but it was still _me_.”

“Have you talked to Shuri about any of this to let her know how-”

“It’s not about that, Steve. I feel like myself, I still feel different and ok, but the guilt is still there. It doesn’t change what I did.”

Bucky opens his mouth to speak, but appears to change his mind when he promptly closes it. Steve rests a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder and his skin is hot to the touch, slightly burned from the sun, muscles tense in the moment.

“I’m sure anyone who got an apology from you would appreciate it. Bet they’d be a lot more forgiving than you think. And you know we don’t always have to talk about good memories. If it helps you to get it out and talk about it, we can hash some of that stuff out.”

Bucky nods and Steve squeezes his shoulder. Bucky looks over at him, eyes low and lips turned down.

“I don’t want to put that on you.”

Steve just wants to see the weight off Bucky’s shoulders even if it means carrying it himself. Steve wants Bucky smiling and blooming even if it leaves Steve wilted and dull. He doesn’t care. He never cared so much about anything but Bucky. Bucky being alive, happy, just being.

“You can. If you don’t want to talk to me, go to the lab. You can’t hold on to that stuff, pal.”

Bucky nods again and Steve stands up, reaches down to pull Bucky with him, but Bucky refuses his hand.

“Can you stay a little longer?”

Steve plops back down without a word and Bucky watches him for a moment before looking toward the water again. When Bucky turns away, Steve can’t help but watch him and silently pray that Bucky finds the light Steve’s seen in him all along.

~

Shuri warned Steve about some of the side effects Bucky might have. Nothing surprising- overtiredness, flashbacks, that sort of thing.

Steve’s not too worried when he visits Bucky and lets himself inside to find Bucky still asleep in bed. He pauses in the doorway and watches with relief, figuring Bucky gets much more sound sleep these days than he has since the 1940’s.

Steve turns to go, but figures he might as well stay in case Bucky wakes up soon. He turns on the TV for background noise, thankful that he brought his book and pencils to kill some time. He ends up not needing to for long, smiles when Bucky shuffles out of his room and over to Steve.

“Hey, Buck.”

“Steve,” Bucky says through a yawn. “I thought I heard someone.”

“Sorry I woke you.”

Bucky just shakes his head, sits down on the couch next to Steve and already looks ready for a nap. He stretches and Steve pretends he doesn’t stare at the sliver of skin that shows between Bucky’s sweatshirt and boxers. Bucky settles back and Steve’s jaw falls open when Bucky decides to use Steve as a pillow. Steve quickly relaxes himself and his mouth involuntarily forms a smile as he adjusts, careful not to disturb Bucky.

“Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums.

His cheek is pressed against Steve’s thigh, arm hanging off the couch so that his knuckles barely graze the ground. Steve sketches the moment lazily, scratchy, unfinished lines eventually forming an image Steve is elated to find doesn’t come from imagination or memory.

“Whatcha drawing?”

“Nothing particular,” Steve lies. “Is the scratching bothering you?”

“No, no,” Bucky mutters. “Don’t mind.”

Steve feels like one of those old cartoon characters, like hearts are popping out of his eyes and his actual heart’s beating out of his chest when Bucky gets more comfortable and snuggles closer.

“M’sorry, you don’t mind, do you?” Bucky mumbles tiredly and Steve has to fight the urge to brush his hair back or lean down and kiss his head, to do anything other than sit there and let it happen.

“‘Course not.”

Bucky gives a small smile and closes the one heavy lidded eye he’d had barely open to peer at Steve. Steve sketches whatever happens to catch his eye- Bucky’s curled toes, his sleeping profile, the pattern on his boxers that consists of moons and stars. Steve’s dying to know where those came from.

He stretches his arms and shoulders as much as he can without moving too much and notices a picture frame in the corner of his eye. His breath leaves him in a sharp, quiet huff when he turns his attention closer. Steve’s looking at a photo of himself, the same one he saw what seems so long ago in a notebook in Bucky’s place in Bucharest.

~

The thud of Steve’s fist against a punching bag echoes through the room. The only other sounds are his deep, drawn out breaths. He swings till he grows tired of it, grasps the bag to stop its swinging back and forth. He was supposed to train with T’Challa like usual, but the King had meetings to attend and Steve doesn’t mind the alone time so much.

He packs up his things and freshens up to visit Bucky, but Bucky doesn’t answer when Steve calls for him at the entrance. Steve pushes the curtain aside and calls again. Still nothing. Then he hears a splash and returns outside to see Bucky at the side of the lake.

“Bucky, what the hell?”

“Laps,” Bucky explains.

“Your arm, I mean-”

“They said it’s ok. Besides, it’s good for my other arm. I need something to keep me busy anyway.”

Steve sits on top of a rock and Bucky treads nearby. “Aren’t you gonna join me?”

“I just showered. Worked out before I came.”

“So?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but Bucky’s wearing that overly confident smirk and his eyes reflect the sun’s sparkle on the water and it’s more beautiful than the shining surface itself.

Steve strips down and dives in, gasping when he pops up for air. The water’s a perfect medium between cool and warm and it feels good to get out of the hot sun. Steve shakes his hair out and Bucky swims by him. Steve realizes then that he’s never really seen Bucky’s left shoulder. With no metal arm there, Steve assumes his scars are more visible, that there’s more wound than Steve realizes.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to realize, too, that Bucky keeps that side faced away, under the surface as much as he can.

They stay out there till the sun starts to sink and the colors of the sky paint the water’s surface. It makes Bucky look like he’s swimming through watercolors and it makes Steve’s heart race. He doesn’t realize he’s staring till Bucky stares back and Steve goes red in the face, feels the heat creep up from his chest. He ducks underwater and when he comes back up and opens his eyes, Bucky’s already out, arm covered, skin dripping wet.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I need to ask a favor.”

“Sure thing.”

“I know that Shuri and her team said this place is good for me and I agree, I think the peace and quiet has been really good.”

“Ok,” Steve answers, eyes narrowed.

“But I gotta see that city.”

“Oh. I don’t know, Bucky, what if they catch you?”

“It’s not like it’s illegal, Steve. Frowned upon, sure, but c’mon. It could be just like old times, staying out too late and having to sneak back home so I didn’t wake up mom, remember?”

Like old times. Bucky’s eyes twinkle with mischief. Steve forgets sometimes that even though they’re both a century old, the things that happened to them happened when they were barely adults. Twenty-somethings with bright eyes and big hearts and fear disguised as excitement brewing in their veins. Bucky was always a rules were made to be bent and broken kind of guy anyway.

“Alright, let’s go.”

~

Bucky is awestruck. It looks amazing up close and Bucky’s only seeing a small part. A silent aircraft flies overhead and Bucky stares up at it like he’s hypnotized. The buildings are mostly glass and the setting sun turns the city purple and gold.

“I love this.”

Steve smiles and knocks his shoulder against Bucky’s.

“Let me show you something.”

Steve leads Bucky to his apartment and skips over his floor, lets the elevator shoot up to the roof. Steve hears Bucky take in a sharp breath and looks over at him.

“I love this place,” Bucky repeats, still in awe.

Neither of them are in a rush to leave. Steve hardly comes up here, has really been waiting for Bucky to see it anyway. Bucky’s joy is contagious and Steve really lets himself take it in, memorizes Bucky’s outlines against the colors, the deep purple and orange, how some structures look like they’re made of gold and not vibranium.

“I wasn’t having the best day today,” Bucky admits. “So thank you for doing this, Steve.”

“Any time. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Just the same old shit, don’t worry.”

“C’mon, Buck.”

“I just- I don't get it, Steve. I don’t get why I got a second chance. I think about it and I don’t deserve this, you understand? These people, you, all of this,” Bucky explains. “After everything I did.”

“You can’t keep thinking like that, Bucky. God, of course you deserve a second chance. And you’re not the only one that got one, do you see that? I got a second chance, too.”

“Steve-”

“If I wouldn’t have run that mission the way I did, none of this would have happened to you. I thought I’d never see you again, Buck, I thought that was it for us. I got a second chance, too,” Steve repeats. “I got you back.”

“Wait, wait, none of this is your fault.”

“That’s not even the point.”

“You think this is your fault,” Bucky says frustratedly. “You sit here blaming yourself, but it wasn’t you.”

“I got us on that train. I messed up and couldn’t- I let you go.”

Bucky’s frustration only grows and he turns to leave with Steve calling after him.

“Buck, please. Just- don’t go yet, come to my place. Talk to me.”

When Bucky doesn’t say anything, Steve takes it as an agreement. They get inside and before Steve can even take a breath, Bucky dives right into it.

“This isn’t your fault, Steve. You didn’t turn me into a murderer. You didn’t- you were out while all this was happening. What could you have done? And when you found out about me, what did you do? You went after me, you fought for me and- and you didn’t give up on me. Dammit, Steve, you should have hated me, you should have had more goddamn sense, but you came after me.”

“Hated you?”

“Yes!” Bucky shouts with a smack atop the counter he’s near. “You nearly died trying to get me back. That’s what you wanted, huh? After everything I did, you would have fucking _died_ trying to save me.”

“It’s not what I wanted, Bucky, no. I wanted you to escape, I wanted you back. If that meant dying-”

“No, Steve. No, you can’t think like that. Jesus, how can you think like that? Don’t you understand? I murdered people. I was the bad guy.”

“Not because you wanted to be. You’re good, you’ve always been good.”

“I hurt you,” Bucky says, remembering their fight in DC. “I hurt you and you let yourself almost die for me.”

“Cause it’s you, Bucky,” Steve replies, voice louder now.

“What if lost you, Steve?”

“You didn’t.”

“What if I did? I’m not worth that, Steve,” Bucky says and then pauses. Steve locks eyes with him and searches his eyes.

“I wish you could see for one goddamn second that you are.”

“I’m not. I hurt- I killed so many people, I hurt your friends and you still didn’t give up on me. Why? After everything I did, why?” Bucky pleads, shouting again.

“Because I love you,” Steve screams back.

Bucky- for the first time in his life, Steve is sure- is stunned into silence.

Steve’s voice is calmer when he speaks again despite knowing he’s laying everything on the line and he puts all his heart into making sure his voice doesn’t shake.

“I went after you and I never gave up on you because you don’t give up when you love someone. I watched you fall down into the canyon that day and felt like you ripped right into my chest and took me with you. But you came back. I found you, Bucky, how could I give up on you? How was I supposed to let you go again? How am I supposed to hate you when I’m hardly capable of doing anything but loving you?”

Steve can see from where he stands how hard and quick Bucky’s chest rises and falls. Bucky huffs a breath, relaxes his shoulders and Steve ignores his racing heart.

“You- no, you can’t tell me that, Steve.”

Steve goes ashen. “What do you mean, Bucky?”

“You should have given up on me, Steve. You shouldn’t- how could you love someone like me? How could you ever let yourself do that?”

“It was never a choice,” Steve shouts at him. “Jesus, Bucky, since we were kids, do you understand? It’s always been you.”

“You deserve to love someone better than me. You don’t deserve me and I sure as hell don’t deserve you, I never did.”

“Bucky-”

Steve feels like Bucky is slipping through his fingers. Like he’s about to lose him again.

“I haven’t done a damn thing but let you down. How can you still feel that way,” Bucky says, a single angry tear slipping down his cheek.

“Cause it’s you,” Steve repeats. “It’s always been you. I can’t let you go, Bucky. Ask me to do anything else and I will, I’ll try, but I could never hate you, Bucky. I can’t let you go.”

Steve doesn’t remember moving. His entire body feels numb and cold, lifeless with the thought of losing Bucky again. Now Bucky’s right in front of him and his forehead is pressed to Steve’s and all these years later, Steve’s heart feels like it doesn’t work right.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. For everything. I’m so sorry, I wish you would have let me go-”

“You can’t ask me to do that, Bucky, I won’t. We’re here because I didn’t.”

Bucky draws away and Steve’s heart feels fractured. He brings a curled fist to his mouth and curses under his breath.

“I hate this. Jesus fucking Christ, I just don’t get it,” Bucky cries. “I’ve tried so hard not to let myself think of you that way, Steve, because you deserve so much better. And I feel so goddamn selfish because I don’t deserve you, but part of me doesn’t care. Part of me just wants you, but-”

Steve looks up through red rimmed eyes, feeling numb and broken. It’s all laid out now, bleeding wounds and heavy hearts worn broken on torn sleeves. Steve’s had to sew his own wounds shut time and time again, but he’s not sure he can do that this time around.

“Listen to me, Bucky, please. I love you. I’m not telling you what I do or don’t deserve. I don’t care what you say, I won’t let you go. You don’t love me, you don’t want to, that’s fine, don’t. That doesn’t change this for me.”

“Are you kidding me, Steve? That’s the fucking problem,” Bucky says, angry, tired, a mix of things Steve can’t quite place. “Of course I love you. God, that’s the problem, Steve, I love you. Same way you have, I always did, too.”

“You deserve love. You deserve so much more than you’ll let yourself have. Please,” Steve says softly, “just be selfish if that’s what you really want. I’m not angry with you, Bucky, I’ll never hate you, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

Bucky reaches up and touches Steve’s cheek where a tear left a light train on his skin, shakes his head.

“All I’m good for is hurting you.”

“That’s not true, Buck.”

“God, you have no idea. Not a damn clue what you do to me.”

Steve sighs and nudges into Bucky’s hand, still pressed to Steve’s cheek.

“Just let go, Buck. I’m right here, ok? I love you. Please, Bucky, try to hear me.”

Bucky just nods, like he’s tired of fighting the losing battle in himself. Steve loses his breath when Bucky leans forward, tilts Steve’s head up with his own pressed against it. Steve calls for him, voice gentle and tired, and Steve’s heart swells when he feels Bucky’s mouth on his.

It’s practically nothing, just a brush of one’s lips against the other’s. Steve’s heart still beats too hard and his hand reaches out involuntarily, searching for Bucky, for something to hold onto, keep himself afloat.

Bucky repeats the motion, lingers for a moment and parts his lips against Steve’s. Steve goes weak in the knees and nearly everywhere else, rests his palm on Bucky’s neck to keep him in place.

Steve’s breathless, completely overtaken. He feels like he’s been swimming against the tide, fighting to break out from underneath the surface and finally he can breathe again. When he does, he tastes Bucky’s breath, feels his own  
mingling with it. 

Bucky’s hand falls from Steve’s cheek to his neck and Steve ends up with his back to the wall, Bucky pressed so close it makes Steve ache.

“I love you,” Steve says when Bucky pulls away for a second.

“I wish you didn’t. God, Steve, you’re stupid for loving me, do you know that?”

“What does that make you?”

“Lucky, I guess.”

Steve pulls Bucky back in and loses himself in it all over again. Bucky keeps a gentle hand on Steve’s neck and uses it to guide Steve away.

“I love you, too, you know that right?”

“Yeah, Buck, I know.”

“I’m sorry I called you stupid,” Bucky says, thumbing at Steve’s lip.

“No, you’re not.”

Bucky smiles and so does Steve. He’s thankful that their mouths meet again because he’s let a couple of tears slip and doesn’t want Bucky to worry or stop. He wants this to last as long as it can. Bucky notices anyway, smooths his thumb over the wetness on Steve’s cheek to wipe it away, but doesn’t pull their mouths apart.

Steve’s heart is racing, his entire body feels too hot, and his stomach feels like it’s doing flips. They kiss like they might have as teenagers. Eager, excited, nervous, slow then fast and then slow again.

When they pull apart again, Steve’s breathless and so is Bucky.

“You know, back in the day this would be about the time a very lucky lady would show me to her room.”

Steve smirks and leans his forehead against Bucky’s, lets his eyes close for a moment when Bucky nuzzles against him.

“This way,” Steve says with a nod in his room’s general direction, leading Bucky with their hands twined together.

Bucky wraps his arm around Steve from behind, tucks his chin near Steve’s neck.

Steve feels Bucky’s soft gasp on his skin when he takes in the view from the floor to ceiling windows on one side of the room. Steve presses a button on the wall and curtains drop down to cover the glass. As if on cue, Bucky presses a careful kiss to Steve’s neck. He breathes gently, a little bit of a tease and a bit as if to ask, “is this ok?”

Steve answers with a tilted head, exposing more of his neck. Bucky kisses softly, works his way to Steve’s mouth. Steve turns when Bucky’s nose rubs against his jawline and their mouths meet again, even slower than before.

They stumble towards the bed and Bucky sits down first, pulls Steve in between his legs. Bucky smooths his hand over Steve’s chest and Steve rests his hand on Bucky’s, locks their fingers together and guides their palms to flatten over his heart.

“Feel it?”

Bucky nods. “You’re nervous,” he observes.

Steve nods back.

“Don’t be,” Bucky adds. “It’s just me.”

Steve sniffs a laugh. “And you think I have no idea,” Steve says.

Bucky pulls Steve down to him, onto his lap. Steve holds Bucky by his neck, hands cupped on either side. When their mouths meet, Steve feels like the seeds Bucky unknowingly planted when they were young bloom brightly in his chest, wrap their stems around his ribs and blossom their petals in the spaces between the bones.

Steve deepens their kiss carefully, sighs when Bucky reciprocates less hesitantly. Bucky flattens his palm against Steve’s back, rubs till he hits the lower part of it and forces Steve closer.

Steve moves away to pull his shirt over his head and Bucky smiles. The expression melts into their open mouthed kiss and Steve jerks his hips forward when Bucky draws away from Steve’s lips only to mouth at his neck, plant sweet, wet kisses on Steve’s skin.

They let themselves get messier, more eager. They explore new skin and kiss too much and get lost in how good it feels, how overwhelming. Bucky buries his face in Steve’s neck and curses under his breath in the middle of it, interrupting what had been making Steve feel a twitch in his pants and heat through his veins.

“What is it?”

“I just- this sounds so stupid.”

“What does, Bucky?”

“I don’t feel close enough with… one arm,” Bucky explains.

Steve sighs, locks fingers with Bucky.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll never feel close enough.”

Bucky smiles at Steve warmly, brings their locked fingers to his mouth and then cups Steve’s cheek.

“Guess we’ll just have to try harder.”

“I guess so.”

They fall back into it, kiss without interruption for a while. As it gets later, their movements grow lazier, more languid. Steve finds himself rubbing gently at the back of Bucky’s neck while Bucky presses soft, tired kisses to Steve’s neck and shoulder.

“Sleepy?”

Bucky looks up and nods. “Mind if I stay the night?”

“‘Course not, but what if Shuri shows up to your place tomorrow?”

“I don’t care. Just wanna stay with you,” Bucky yawns.

Steve kisses him again and then again. Steve climbs off Bucky and Bucky lets him go regretfully. He comes back with sweats for Bucky, but Bucky turns them down, insists that he’s good in just his boxers.

Steve changes and Bucky watches from the bed, eyes twinkling despite his tiredness. 

“Can I tell you something?”

“‘Course you can.”

Steve chews his lip for a second, relaxes when Bucky strokes his thigh.

“I know all those feelings aren’t going to just go away,” Steve says, referring to everything Bucky said earlier, “but I hope you won’t run from me because of them.”

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

“If that’s how you feel, that’s how you feel. You don’t have to apologize, I just- I don’t want you to leave, ok?”

“I won’t leave. I promise.”

“Ok.”

Steve joins Bucky underneath the covers, his back to Bucky’s chest. Bucky stretches his arm over Steve and Steve slides their hands into place when he sees Bucky’s open palm displayed from the corner of his eye.

Bucky twiddles with Steve’s fingers, lines the tips up, slides and interlocks, only to start the pattern over again. Bucky must think Steve falls asleep unless his barely whispered words are meant to be heard. Steve doesn’t answer anyway.

“I’m all yours now, Stevie. I’ll never let you go.”

~

Steve has always been a morning person. Not in the sense that he enjoys waking up and getting an early start, just that he’s never been the type to be able to sleep in even if he wants to.

That hardly changes with Bucky beside him, as Steve is up at about 9:30, but there’s no rush to get out of bed, no reason to. Meanwhile every reason to stay is sound asleep with an arm stretched out over Steve and hot breath coming out in gentle puffs that warm Steve’s skin.

Steve adjusts himself, careful not to wake Bucky. Yesterday still sort of feels like a dream and Steve keeps touching Bucky like he’s going to disappear. He scratches Bucky’s back, soft, repeated strokes that nearly lull Steve back to sleep. He stops to attempts to get out of bed, but Bucky groans and keeps Steve in place.

“Don’t stop,” he says, voice muffled.

“How about I come back with some coffee first.”

“Fine,” Bucky huffs, eyes still shut. He doesn’t even move his arm, Steve has to slide out from underneath it. 

Steve sets the coffee to brew and figures he should ask Bucky if he wants anything to eat. Before he can turn around, he feels an arm around him and he smiles over his shoulder.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

Steve slides out from between Bucky and the counter to get the coffee, pours two cups that end up left half full and forgotten about.

“I don’t think I’m ready to leave just yet,” Bucky says against Steve’s mouth, back to the counter.

Steve’s hips press in tighter and Bucky snakes his arm over Steve’s shoulder, drags his fingers along Steve’s neck.

“Who says you have to?”

Bucky shrugs. “Are you gonna have to go anywhere?”

“Not today.”

Bucky considers it for a moment and kisses Steve sweetly, smiles into it when they get closer.

“So just you and me all day, huh?”

Steve nods and bumps his forehead against Bucky’s. “I hope so.”

Bucky palms Steve’s face, swipes a finger underneath Steve’s eye, gazes at him so intensely it makes Steve nervous.

“Did I ever tell you I remembered you? That day in the street with Sam and Natasha,” Bucky explains. “They took me back to base and I knew you.”

Steve swallows hard, holds back whatever threatens to pour out.

“I hoped you would.”

“I did. I swear to Christ, Stevie, it’s like you’re my other half. You’re right here,” Bucky says, laying his hand over his heart. “Same way you say it was always me, it was always you, too. I remembered you, Steve, I always remember you.”

Bucky punctuates with a hard, deep kiss. The kind that makes Steve dizzy and desperate, makes him eager for whatever comes next. Nerves dissipate and they grow impatient, kissing and pulling at clothes, hurrying as if today is all they have, like they only have now to make up for all the time they lost.

Steve slows it down, reminds Bucky neither of them are going anywhere. In that moment, Steve’s nerves spike back up. He feels it deep in his belly, in the marrow of his bones that they could cross into unfamiliar territory.

They nearly do, Steve thinks. They get too excited and are practically naked, but Bucky pulls away in the middle of it, rests his head on Steve’s chest to catch his breath.

“I don’t think I can do this, Stevie.”

Steve’s breathless too, guides Bucky to look up at him.

“What’s wrong?”

Bucky doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t take his eyes off Steve’s until he speaks.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” Bucky says, tilting his head towards his covered left side. 

“I understand. I want you to know though, I don’t think of you any differently because of that.”

Bucky looks back up and Steve takes a deep breath. He’s always a little stunned looking into Bucky’s eyes, feels like he’s falling into their depths.

“I love you all the same. We’re not doing anything both of us don’t want to, but I want you to trust me.”

“I trust you more than anyone, you know that.”

Steve smiles, presses a soft kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth.

“I’m all yours,” Steve says, echoing Bucky’s sentiment from the night before. “You’ve got me however you want me,” Steve adds, eyebrows slightly raised. “I’ll feel exactly the same whenever you’re ready to let me in.”

Bucky drags his teeth over his lip, tries to bite back a smile and fails.

“Thank you,” Bucky whispers against Steve’s mouth, eyes closed, hand pressed to Steve’s neck to keep him in place.

Steve just nods, lets their lips catch and break apart, catch again. They slow their movements, calm themselves down, and Steve leaves Bucky in the room to shower eventually.

Bucky takes his turn later in the day and doesn’t return to the nest of blankets they created in the living room as quick as Steve expected. He doesn’t hear running water so he peers inside and finds nothing. Steve pokes his head into his room and sees Bucky near the window staring out and notices his shoulder isn’t wrapped. He looks away quickly, but before he can leave, Bucky catches him.

“Sorry, I was just checking to see where you were.”

“Miss me already?”

“Yeah, actually.”

Steve smiles when Bucky does and Bucky turns to wrap his shoulder up, but doesn’t move from his spot at the glass.

“You ok?”

“I didn’t have windows. It was part of keeping me from knowing what was going on, keeping me dormant. It was always dark or lit up with these horrible, bright lights.”

Steve nods, steps up beside Bucky. 

“Can’t explain how it feels,” Bucky adds softly.

“You don’t have to.”

Bucky nods and Steve brushes his hand against Bucky’s hips to get his attention.

“I’ll be in the living room, ok?”

“I’ll be there in a sec.”

“No hurry,” Steve replies, letting his hand linger for a second before he leaves.

Steve pauses in the doorway, just observes. He stays for a moment and leaves with one last longing look at Bucky.

It’s not long before Bucky joins Steve on the couch, swings his body over the back of it and lands right beside Steve. Steve instinctively lifts his arm to make room and Bucky cuddles close and Steve didn’t think he could fall deeper than he already has until right then.

“I could get used to this,” Bucky says, cheek pressed against Steve’s chest, words slightly muffled.

“I think I am already.”

Bucky lifts his head and adjusts to get more comfortable, keeps his eyes trained on Steve’s.

“Are you mad about yesterday?”

“No,” Steve sighs. “I was never angry with you, Buck. Was I afraid of losing you again for a minute there? Yes. And that scared me, it hurt, but you’re here.”

“You know I was just scared, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Were you scared?”

Steve nods, leans in closer. “I was terrified.”

“And you still said it.”

“It just slipped,” Steve admits. “I mean… it’s the only thing I know. Everything you said, all the why’s,” Steve explains, “that was the only answer I knew was right.”

Bucky twists around and pats his chest so Steve happily gets comfortable, smiles when Bucky plays with the strings of his sweatshirt.

“You’ve always been the braver one of the two of us,” Bucky observes.

“Are you kidding me, Buck? I would have said you.”

“I figured as much.”

“You are though. To do what you’ve done and fight back the way you have. You survived and you beat this. That’s pretty brave, Bucky.”

Steve feels Bucky’s chin atop his head, feels Bucky’s chest rise and fall when he sighs deeply.

“I was never brave enough to tell you how I felt, even back then.”

“Neither was I. It was different then. We were different.”

Bucky’s hand slides from Steve’s chest and their fingers link together. Steve watches how Bucky slides them together and apart, presses the tips togethers, lines them up and makes them dance.

“I keep thinking about everything that got us here.”

“Me, too.”

“Would you change it?”

Steve hesitates. He’d do anything to change what’s happened to Bucky, reverse it all and take away those years of pain, of not being in his own head. Then again, that’s why they’re here and Steve wants nothing but this, never wanted anything more.

“That’s a hard one.”

“I know,” Bucky says, smile audible in his voice. “That’s why I asked.”

“Would you?”

“No,” Bucky says surely. “If that was the only way to get us here, no. I hate it, but Jesus Christ, Steve, if I needed to go through all that and do the horrible things I did to end up here with you like this, no I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, doesn’t really need to. He knows what it is to love someone so deeply that you’ll do anything, walk on burning ground and climb the steepest mountains just for them.

“That’s horrible isn’t it,” Bucky says softly.

“No. A little crazy, maybe,” Steve jokes. “C’mon, Buck. You’ve gotta stop being so hard on yourself for how you feel or things you did that weren’t even really you.”

“Maybe you’re not being hard on me enough,” Bucky argues.

“No, that’s not it. You need a reason to continue that cycle and I’m not giving you one. You need to break out of it, Bucky. Things are good now, things are different. You’re different.”

Bucky nudges against Steve’s cheek and Steve presses in gently, squeezes Bucky’s hand.

“It’s really hard, Steve. I can’t get passed it.”

“You’ve gotta try. I’ll be right here with you as long as it takes.”

“I know you will.”

Bucky rests his cheek against Steve’s head, keeps twiddling with Steve’s and his hand. Steve figures he should lighten the mood a little, tilts his head away so he can look Bucky in the eyes.

“You know T’Challa’s not exactly in a rush to get us out of here?” 

“No?”

Steve shakes his head. “Makes sense. Besides, I’m not either. You?”

“Don’t think so, no,” Bucky answers, a smile threatening to break out.

Steve’s expression falls serious and he searches Bucky’s eyes. He doesn’t want to move so fast, he knows they have time, but all he wants is to make up for the years they lost as quickly and as much as he can.

“I understand if this is a little fast, but what do you think about us… living together?”

Bucky smiles again. “Is it fast? I mean we were apart all those years and we’re nearly a hundred years old, Steve, so is it really fast for us?”

“I guess not,” Steve laughs.

“I’d like that, by the way. Living together.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Do you think I can though? They want me to be somewhere quiet.”

“And I’m assuming you’d rather move in here.”

Bucky smiles and looks out the window at the glowing city, the view beyond it.

“Wouldn’t you?”

Steve nods and looks outside, too.

“Are we going to tell anyone? About us?”

Bucky turns his attention back to Steve and Steve feels Bucky’s gaze so he meets his eyes, melts underneath them.

“I don’t think so. Let them find out one way or another. I don’t wanna hide, it’s just- I don’t know. So much of us has been for everyone else, but this is ours, sweetheart.”

Steve feels a wave of goosebumps wash over him and he swallows nervously. He’s well aware he’s too grown to feel butterflies, but God help him, he feels like his stomach has grown wings along with his heart and both are trying to take flight.

Bucky’s right, isn’t he? This is theirs. They belong to no one, no group or country, nobody but each other. Their hands are still twined and they’re still cuddled up all close and Bucky leans down to kiss Steve on the mouth, closes his lips just to part them again against Steve’s.

They keep each other close for the rest of the night, splayed out on the couch, touching in some way at all times. The two of them end up talking about all the music Bucky’s missed out on, movies and books, old memories like always. Steve can hardly tell the difference between Brooklyn so many years ago and Wakanda now. Bucky laughs as brightly as he did then, smiles with his whole face, gets a twinkle in his eyes. They stay up all night, kiss when they feel like it, play music they used to love and music they’ve never heard.

Steve realizes it’s not where they are. Whether it’s Brooklyn or here or a tent seventy some years ago in the cold and dark. Home’s never been where Steve lays his head at night.

Home’s sitting right beside Steve wearing one of his old sweatshirts, laughing so hard his eyes are crinkling.

It’s always been Bucky.

~


End file.
